


Into Darkness Fell His Star

by Mertiya



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ficlet, Hopeful Ending, Just because you're evil doesn't mean you don't love someone kids, Lost Love, M/M, Tragedy, angbang, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23552881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya
Summary: An age ends; a Maia burns.
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	Into Darkness Fell His Star

**Author's Note:**

> So I may have fallen down and faceplanted into Angbang uhhhhhh here's my first attempt, it's nothing but a little ficlet but I hurt myself writing it so hope you enjoy!

It is only too late that he perceives the true trap laid by his enemies. It is only as the Ring, the greater part of his powers and perhaps his soul bound up in it, teeters on the edge of destruction, that he understands. He sends the Ring Wraiths shrieking across the sky towards it, but as he turns his own lidless flaming Eye towards the spiked crown of Orodruin, he can already see that he is too late.

The Ring will fall and be destroyed, and he with it. There is little left inside him but rage, and fear, but with the last piece of a curiosity he thought long since destroyed, he looks within the hearts of the three beings standing at the lip of the Sammath Naur.

In one, there is nothing; the Ring devoured him long ago and he fights for it with no will left him but only a twisted scrap of singleminded greed, and the Lord of the Rings dismisses him. A part left to play, Olórin said, did he? Well, perhaps, but it is not a part Sauron has any interest in. But in the other two—

It burns him, the love they have for each other. It is a bond beyond reason and beyond reward. But it does not burn him because he does not understand it, as Olórin would have it, as sure Aulë would have it. It burns because he understands too well, because in the heart of that small creature staring wildly about him with shock there is the dumb desperate devotion and the swelling sense of senselessness, the fear, the premonition of emptiness that swept through _him_ when he saw—

_\--the black blood upon the floor of Angband—_

_\--the great throne toppled—_

_\--the bed with its white sheets torn off, lying empty and forlorn in the center of the chamber—_

It burns and burns, and he thought he had forgotten this pain, but it seems it was only waiting for him. He can feel it even now, as his own doom approaches—the last touch of those black hands upon his face, the last time their lips met. And the first, leaning awkwardly across the forge, as immortal hands pressed against his shoulders and a honeyed voice praised him. Honeyed but honest, in a way no one ever was to him before.

The Ring falls. He watches it sparkle in the air as turns over, and he watches the one ( _Banazîr_ , a harsh name for a soft creature) catch the other ( _Frodo_ , a name without meaning for one who means much). Those hands are so soft, and Mairon _howls_ , forgetting who he is, forgetting that his doom is a moment away, forgetting all but the overwhelming grief of not having in his arms the one _he_ would catch, that he would always catch, and that he failed, long ago. The only comfort he can take is that those two, who share this same bond, will not be forced to watch it break.

Fire engulfs the Ring, but that burning is secondary to the burning in his heart. He feels the threads binding him to the world snap, and he hears the screaming of a creature forced from existence and then—

It is all black. It is all silent. Not even the white pinpricks of stars pierce the Void. And yet, he feels _something_ , the faint soft echo of a caress he thought he would never feel again, and he sobs, as the faint soft echo of a voice whispers in his ear, _“It has been a long time, Little Flame.”_

**Author's Note:**

> In Mordor where the shadows are.


End file.
